


lost your balance on a tightrope

by butterflylungs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, M/M, Mentions of self-harm, OCD, there's a happy ending i promise, um there's a panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflylungs/pseuds/butterflylungs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The sun coming through the window is casting a soft glow in the room, lighting up Niall's face, his features. Harry thinks he's never seen something so beautiful in his life before.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He wishes he could drown in Niall's blue eyes instead of his own mind.</i>
</p>
<p>au. Harry loses himself and Niall shows up just in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost your balance on a tightrope

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings:** As it says in the tags this fic deal with pretty sad stuff (apparently I'm only capable of writing angst), and although nothing is very graphic if you're triggered by anything I mentioned please don't read it okay. Also what Harry has in this is something called [obsessive intrusive thoughts](http://www.calmclinic.com/anxiety/signs/intrusive-thoughts), which stem from anxiety disorder and OCD. I did some research on it and I also wrote it from personal experience, and I hope I was realistic and that I did a good job. (I was kinda vague on the thoughts, but it's on purpose. It's not those that matter, it's the reaction to them). Also this isn't beta'ed so all mistakes are mine.  
>  PS. I obviously don't own One Direction and this is a work of fiction, so it's all my imagination.

Harry is 19 when it starts.

He's always been a little anxious, he always had the tendency of getting lost in his own mind sometimes, his mum tells him he worries too much about stupid things. Things that don't matter, that no one worries about.

But it's manageable. It doesn't weigh on him too much, he can still go on with his daily life without too many problems.

That is, until he turns 19. And then it all crumbles down.

*

It goes like this:

He starts worrying about things that he would have never imagined he would have to deal with. He'll have a random thought, he'll see someone walking too close to the edge of the sidewalk, he'll think _what if they lose their balance and fall into the street and get run over_ , he thinks about his mum handling knives and forks and wonders _what if she hurts herself with those_ , and it goes on, and on, and on.

He thinks, _I shouldn't be thinking this. What if I'm a bad person. What if I end up hurting someone. What if. What if. What if._

The thoughts get worse. 

*

When he lays down at night, it's like his brain is almost attacking itself with images and thoughts and worries that have him fighting to get breath in his lungs, the tears stinging in his eyes. He feels panic crushing his chest, he feels lightness in his head, he feels like he's drowning and no one's there to grab his hand and drag him to the surface.

He just keeps getting deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

*

Sleeping is a rare luxury. Lying down in his bed in the dark makes his skin crawl. During the day, he tries to keep himself busy to escape his own mind, and he thinks his roomate - Zayn - starts to notice that there's something wrong with him.

Harry tries to reassure him, he smiles through the panic, he pretends he's okay. Zayn takes long glances at the bags under his eyes and the defeated slump of his shoulders, and frowns.

"Are you okay, mate?" He keeps asking.

Harry keeps pretending.

*

The thing is, he doesn't know what's wrong with him. He doesn't know why his brain started doing this, he doesn't know if he's genuinely a bad person. He wouldn't do the things his brain tells him he could do, but it doesn't stop him from stressing about it.

After a while, he starts believing there's something fundamentally wrong about him. _If you're thinking like this, it means you're not good. It means you're fucked up_ , he tells himself.

Getting out of bed to go to class is almost impossible. Being awake becomes unbearable. He wishes he could sleep, sleep, sleep forever and run from the demons inside his head.

*

He meets Niall on a Monday. He barely convinces himself to leave his room that morning, but he knows that he already skipped too many classes and he needs to get his shit together.

He's starting to look like a ghost of himself. Zayn's worried frown keeps getting deeper. He wishes he could tell him, but he can't. He doesn't want Zayn to hate him.  
Niall comes crashing into his life on a rainy Monday morning, when Harry is about to hit rock bottom.

Quite literally crashing, because Niall runs into him while Harry is walking through campus, their bodies clashing together painfully, and Harry drops his books on the ground, startled from the impact.

"Sorry, mate! Wasn't lookin' where I was going, here, let me help you."

They bend down at the same time to pick up the scattered books, and Harry takes a look at the guy in front of him. He recognizes the Irish accent in his voice, his hair is blond - it looks bleached - and he's got beautiful blue eyes.

"It's okay, no worries." He reassures him, taking the books from the the other guy's hands and straightening up.

The Irish kid sticks his hand out. "I'm Niall, by the way. Nice to meet you, I'm sorry about that. Reckon I should be more careful, huh? What's your name?"

Harry blinks, and then smiles a little. "I'm Harry."

That's how it starts.

*

His anxiety gets worse. He can't focus on anything except the thoughts that run through his mind, and he finds himself crying and having nervous breakdowns from sheer panic more often than not.

Sometimes he feels like he doesn't have control of his own body, that his limbs don't belong to him; he's terrified his thoughts will take over him completely.

It scares him so much he almost throws up everytime that happens, tears running down his pale cheeks.

He knows he can't go on like this, that he needs to tell someone, that he has to ask for help.

He can't bring himself to. He doesn't feel like he deserves it.

*

He starts scratching at his skin; he finds that the pain distracts him, grounds him. He looks at the red marks on his arms, and wonders how he ended up like this.

*

He keeps running into Niall whenever he brings himself to leave his flat to go to class, and he wonders how he didn't notice the kid before. His presence is so bright, and he's so loud. Eventually, they exchange numbers. Niall seems to like him, and Harry likes Niall a lot. He makes things less dark, he chases away the shadows around him.

His smile could be used as a weapon to fight the demons that haunt him.

Currently, they're in Harry's room, sprawled out on Harry's bed. It turns out that Niall shares a class with Harry, so they decided to study together, since Niall declared that Harry looked a smart person and he needed someone smart to help him get through this class without failing.

It's the first time Harry has Niall over, the first time he has anyone over, honestly. He's been so lost in his problems lately that he forgot about the outside world. He's nervous, he spends an hour pacing in the living room before Niall is due to arrive; Zayn, cuddled up on the couch with Liam, looks at him like he's insane.

He doesn't know why he's so nervous. It might be because he's not used to people coming over. It might be because Niall makes his belly feel funny, and he wonders if it's normal to be so fascinated with someone he had just an handful of conversations with in the crowded halls of his university.

It's just that Niall is...well, he's Niall.

It turns out that all his worries are for nothing, because Niall puts him at ease the moment he walks through the door; he introduces himself cheerfully to Zayn and Liam, and then Harry leads him to his room.

They're supposed to be studying, but they end up talking mindlessly, telling each other about their lives, their childhood, their teenage years.

He tells Niall about his family, about Gemma, about Holmes Chapel, even though there's nothing very exciting about it. In return, Niall talks about his brother Greg, about Ireland, his roomate Louis ( _"He's a twat sometimes, but he's also really funny. It's a wild ride living with him, sometimes I can't even keep up with him."_ )

"I used to be a baker." Harry blurts out at some point, when there's a lull in the conversation. Niall looks at him with an amused smile on his face.

"Yeah? That's sick, maybe you could bake me something sometime, yeah? If you're any good, obviously."

Harry tries not to think about the implication that they might see each other outside school again.

"Yeah, I mean, I've been told I'm pretty good. I love it, so..." He mumbles awkwardly, flustered. The sun coming through the window is casting a soft glow in the room, lighting up Niall's face, his features. Harry thinks he's never seen something so beautiful in his life before.

He wishes he could drown in Niall's blue eyes instead of his own mind.

It would be a good place to get lost into.

*

It's only when Niall leaves that he realizes he felt better in those few hours spent with Niall than he has in months.

*

He crashes down again, though. Niall leaves, taking the light with him, and Harry is thrown in the dark again. That night, he feels the fear clawing at his throat, squeezing it and trying to suffocate him. He closes his eyes and tries to think about blond hair and blue eyes.

A few days later, Niall demands that Harry bakes him something. That's how he ends up at his kitchen counter making cupcakes while Niall watches him curiously, trying to taste every ingredient while Harry bats his hands away, a smile on his face.

"I can't wait for those to be finished, I'm starving." Niall comments, sat on the counter next to Harry.

"You're always starving. Didn't you eat like, an hour ago?"

"Shut up, Styles. A bloke has his needs, and food is a very fundamental one."

Harry shakes his head, still smiling. He feels the shadows creep at the back of his mind, but he looks at Niall and tries to bat them away.

_You don't deserve someone like him. He's so bright and you're a pit full of darkness. What if he knew? He'd run far away from you._

He blinks and tries to focus back on Niall, who's watching him with a worried look in his eyes. His face must have given something away, something shining through the cracks.

"You okay, Harry? You got kinda..." He doesn't finish, but Harry gets what he means.

"I'm fine." He lies, and Niall tugs at one of his wild curls in an attempt to put the smile back on his face.

He manages, but just barely.

*

Harry knows he's gonna reach a breaking point, he knows that he won't be able to deal with this on his own anymore someday. He doesn't look forward to it. He doesn't want to worry anyone. He doesn't want anyone to think differently of him, so he keeps going, he keeps holding on to what little sanity he has left.

Niall makes everything better, even just for a little while. His presence is soothing to Harry, but it's not just that. Niall is just so, so special, so cheerful and happy and exactly what Harry needs, what he wants.

He wishes he'd met him when he was still okay.

*

They've known each other for a couple of months when they first kiss. By that point, Niall basically comes over every other day, making himself at home in Harry and Zayn's flat.

He's lucky Zayn likes the kid, but it's not like Zayn spends a lot of time at their flat, anyway. He might as well be living with Liam, considering the amount of time he spends over there. He wonders if he's gonna move out officially, eventually. He dreads that thought, he doesn't want to be alone, he's scared that he'll get so lost he won't be able to find his way back up if he's in the flat by himself all the time.

That day, Harry wakes up with a new notification from Niall on his phone. He swipes at the screen and opens the text.

**To Harry:** hey tommo is throwing a party tonight you should come plz!!! there's gonna be lots of booze aha

Harry bites his lip before replying. He doesn't feel like going out, he never does anymore, but he really wants to see Niall.

**To Niall:** Okay, tell me when and where .xx

**To Harry:** aces!! imma text you the address then can't wait to see ya

Harry's stomach flips and he tries to suppress a smile.

**To Niall:** Me too .xx Should I bring something?

**To Harry:** just your cute bum aha ;)

He blushes.

That night, when he arrives at the address Niall texted him, he waits and sits outside in his car for a few minutes. He assumes there's gonna be people at the party, and although he likes people, he hasn't been in a crowded place since...hell, he can't even remember. He hasn't really bothered to interact with anyone outside Zayn, Liam and Niall in a while, too caught up in whatever's going on inside his head.

So he's a little nervous, but he eventually sighs and decides to suck it up and get out of the car.

He hears the music even before he reaches the door. It's not that loud, but loud enough. He knocks somewhat awkwardly, and stands there until someone opens the door; it's a short guy with blue eyes and a messy fringe who takes one long look at him and then says: "You're Harry, right? Niall's mate? I'm Louis, come in."

Harry follows him inside and looks around; he's never been in Niall's flat before, and he thinks it's a shame because the place is pretty spacious. It's filled with people who are chatting and drinking, music playing from somewhere in the room. He doesn't know anyone, and he wonders where Niall is.

"Uh, where's Niall?" He asks Louis, who takes a sip from the beer he's holding and then shrugs.

"Dunno, mate. He was on the couch last time I saw him." He barely has time to finish the sentence before some guy that seems to appear out of nowhere throws an hand around Louis' shoulders and starts to steer him away, saying something to him.

Louis smiles at him before he walks away, and Harry really wishes he'd stayed. He doesn't know what to do with himself, and in the end he moves towards the couch and finds an empty seat. He chats with a couple of girls that are sitting next to him for a while - they're nice and they seem to really like his curls but they also might be a little drunk - and then he hears someone calling his name.

"Haz! Hey, you came!"

He turns around and he sees Niall coming towards him, a beer in his hand. A smile spreads automatically on his face just from seeing him.

"Of course I came." He says softly. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

Niall is in front of him now, and he shrugs. "I thought this wasn't your scene, you know, with that whole hipster thing you got goin' on."

"Heyyy. I'm not a hipster."

Niall laughs, and god, Harry could melt right there.

"Sure you aren't, flowerchild."

*

Harry isn't sure how, but a couple hours later, they find themselves on the small balcony, alone. The party is still going inside, but a lot of people have already left and the crowd is less thick. Harry has an headache though, both from the noise and the lack of sleep, and he's looking up at the sky.

It makes him feel better sometimes. He can get lost in something that doesn't scare him for once, something pretty and endless.

"What are you thinking about, Styles?"

Niall's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks at him and shrugs.

"Nothing. I mean, I don't know. I like looking at the sky, you know? It's so big and like, it should make me feel insignificant but it doesn't. It's comforting."

"Wow, that's really deep. And you're not even drunk."

Harry laughs and looks at his hands. It feels intimate, being out there with Niall. Maybe it's because of the darkness.

He fiddles with his rings and looks up at Niall again, and he realizes how close their faces are. He didn't realize before; did Niall move closer?

He opens his mouth to say something, he doesn't even know what, but suddenly there are lips on his and everything stops. Niall tastes like beer, but he doesn't care. His lips are soft and they're moving against his gently, and Harry feels his heart bursting out of his chest.

It's a chaste kiss, there's just a slight hint of tongue, and then Harry pulls back to analyze Niall's face. He almost feels dizzy. He can't believe that just happened.

He clears his throat before talking. "That was..."

_That was the best thing that ever happened to me._

"Why did you do that?" He asks eventually.

Niall's hands are in his hair, fingers tangling in his curls. "Felt like kissing you. I've been wanting to do that since we met. Is that okay?"

Harry nods hurriedly, maybe a little too enthusiastically, because Niall lets out an amused laugh and kisses him again, and again, and again.

*

This is how it goes:

They start dating. It's nerve-wracking in the beginning, especially for Harry, because he doesn't know how to act, he's never had a serious boyfriend before. Niall makes it easy, though. They still do what they used to do when they were just friends - they play FIFA, they hang out in Harry's room to study, they marathon TV shows on the couch, Niall makes Harry cook for him - but they also go on dates, they kiss, they hold hands.

It's nice. Harry is the closest thing to happy that he's been in months, but eventually he realizes that his problems are still there, that they didn't go away just because he's with Niall now. He's not suddenly okay just because Niall chases the darkness away with kisses and cuddles.

Niall can't always be there, and besides, his thoughts still get to him while they're together; they're just easier to ignore.

It's an hard thing to deal with. He'd thought...maybe he'd thought that being with Niall would make everything disappear, but that doesn't happen.

He doesn't stop scratching at his skin. He doesn't stop having panic attacks and he doesn't suddenly start sleeping for more than a bunch of hours at time. And he feels so bad for keeping this from Niall, but he doesn't know how to explain it, he doesn't know what to say.

_I'm scared of myself. I'm scared of my thoughts. I'm scared one day I won't be in control anymore._

He's ashamed, he feels guilty, and sometimes he even feels like he doesn't deserve Niall. He deserves better, he deserves someone who's not so fucked up.

Niall notices the bags under his eyes, he notices there's something wrong, but Harry closes off everytime he asks about it, and Niall learns not to push it after they have a fight because he insisted too much and Harry freaked out.

"You look so sad sometimes." He says one day.

Harry feels like throwing up.

*

They've been together for a couple of months when Niall stays over for the night for the first time.

"There's no reason for you to take the couch, Harry. This is your bed, we can share, yeah? Unless it makes you uncomfortable."

It doesn't make Harry uncomfortable, but he doesn't want to wake Niall up in case he has a bad night. He doesn't know how to tell him that though, and he doesn't have the heart to tell Niall he doesn't want to share a bed.

It's not even that, he wants to be in the same bed as him and cuddle and wake up together, but.

"No, it's okay, we can share, you're right." He concedes finally. Niall's eyes light up, and honestly. That's why he can never say no to him.

Harry strips down to his boxers and Niall does the same, and then they get under the covers. It's a little awkward for a few seconds, and Harry doesn't know what to do with his limbs. Niall just huffs a laugh and manages to manhandle him until they're spooning, Harry's back against Niall's chest.

It's nice, it's warm. He feels safe.

He makes a pleased noise, and he feels Niall's nose nudge the back of his head.

"You like being the little spoon then, huh?" He teases.

"Shut up."

"It's cute." Niall's voice is already slower, sleepy. Harry smiles fondly.

"Yeah, yeah. Sleep now."

"Okay. G'night."

After a few minutes, he feels Niall's breathing even out.

He tries to fall asleep too, but fails.

He doesn't know for how long he lies awake, anxiety crawling up his throat. He can't make his brain shut down, he can't...

He can't stop going over endless terrible possibilites, he can't stop thinking about so much bad stuff, he can't breathe, he can't.

He slips out of Niall's arms as carefully as he can and clumsily walks to the bathroom, his chest tight, his eyes filled with tears.

He doesn't even know if he's making any noise, he hopes he's not, he doesn't want to wake anyone up. He closes the bathroom door and sits on the floor against it, his breaths coming out too fast.

He digs his nails in the tender skin of his arm, he feels the tears spill out and fall down his face. He can't go on like this, he can't do it, he just can't, it's not life, it's not how he wants to live, but he doesn't know how to stop it and he doesn't know how this happened or what he did to deserve it, he just wants to be happy, he just wants to be normal.

He realizes too late that he's sobbing, that he's making too much noise. He hears a knock at the door, Niall's worried voice reaches his ears.

"Haz? What's happening? You okay?"

_No_ , he thinks. _Please help me._

He doesn't know what to do. He wants Niall's help, but he doesn't want to explain this. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this, especially not Niall.

He stays frozen, sitting on the bathroom floor, sobbing quietly into his hand while he tries to take a breath.

He must take too long to reply, because he feels the door moving. Niall must be trying to open it, but he can't with Harry sitting against it.

"Harry, you're scaring me. Open the door, I'm serious."

_You're scaring me._

He moves away from the door, but he doesn't get up. He doesn't think he could even if he wanted to. He still feels panicky, he's still struggling to take a breath.

He doesn't see Niall because his head is bent down, but he hears him come in and then he feels hands on his shoulder, in his hair.

"Harry, shit. What's wrong? Shit, okay. Hey. Breathe. Look at me. Breathe. Harry, look at me."

Harry does. He raises his head a little, his eyes meeting Niall's. He looks so, so worried, and it's his fault. That thought just makes him cry harder.

"Okay, breathe with me, babe. Breathe with me, please, it's okay. It's okay, I'm here, just breathe."

He doesn't know how long they stay there on the floor, but eventually he manages to calm down a little. He feels so embarassed, and he just wants to disappear.

Niall wipes his cheeks with his thumbs and then helps him up; he leads him into the kitchen and makes him sit down, brings him a glass of water.

Harry doesn't look at Niall, chooses to stare at the glass in his hands instead, but he can feel Niall's eyes on him. He hears him move around, and when he finds the courage to look up, Niall is sitting on a chair in front of him, frowning.

"Harry, what was that?"

Harry hesitates. "Nothing."

"That wasn't nothing. You were freaking out."

"It was nothing, okay. Don't worry, I'm fine."

"Harry..." Niall's voice is strained. "Stop, okay? You're not fine, you just had a panic attack, you were...you scared me. And...Christ, your arms, Haz. You need to tell me what's wrong."

Shit. He forgot to cover up his arms. He crosses them over his chest, defensive. He doesn't know what to say.

The silence between them feels so heavy, and Harry can't stand it.

"I...I don't want you to think of me differenty. You will, if I tell you. You'll think it's stupid." He whispers.

"No, I wont, Jesus. Just...just tell me, okay? I just want to help, it sucks to see you like this and not knowing what's wrong, it's shit. I promise I won't think any different of you, alright?"

And Harry wants help so bad, he wants to feel okay again.

Finally, he tells someone. It's the hardest thing he's ever done, and his voice keeps breaking and when he finishes talking, he's a mess. But he tells Niall everything, from when it started until now. He doesn't look at him, he feels to vulnerable already, but it's still a huge achievement.

"S-so, that's it. I...if you think I'm fucked up...I understand."

There's silence, and Harry wipes his face shakily. He's scared to look at Niall, but he can't help it.

His boyfriend looks...well, he looks confused, and sad, but there's no disgust or rejection on his face, and that's what he expected to find.

Their eyes meet, and Niall finally talks.

"Shit, Harry. You should have told someone, you shouldn't have to deal with this alone."

"So you don't think I'm...not normal, or...screwed up?"

Niall shakes his head vehemently. "No, Harry, no. Listen...I don't know what this is, but...it's gonna be okay. We're gonna get you some help, and you'll be alright, okay? And you don't have to do this alone anymore."

Harry feels like crying again. This is so much more than he can handle, and he's exhausted. Niall gets up from his chair and he goes to Harry, he hugs him tightly and strokes his hair.

"S'gonna be okay, you're so...Harry, you're such a good person. You're wonderful, you're gonna be alright."

Harry buries his face in Niall's chest and for a second he believes him.

*

It doesn't get better, not immediately. Niall convinces him to tell Zayn a few days later.

It lifts a little weight off his chest. Zayn reacts the same way Niall did, he hugs him and tells him it's gonna be fine.

It's weird that now people know. Niall stays over more often, helps him through the night. When he can't be there, there's Zayn.

It's Zayn that finds him crying in the kitchen at 4am, and cuddles with him on the couch until he feels a little better. It's Niall who tries to distract him in every way possible, it's Niall who tries to put a smile on his face and keeps him from scratching subconsciously at his skin.

He feels like a burden, but they tell him to stop being stupid.

The anxiety doesn't go away, his mind doesn't stop attacking him. Zayn eventually suggests consulting someone who can really help him, maybe a therapist or something.

Harry wants so desperately to feel okay again that he agrees immediately. He just wants to know what this is, he wants answers.

He doesn't ask them to, but Niall and Zayn come with him to his first appointment. Even though he feels a little babied, he's glad for their presence and support. He's really nervous, and he must be showing it, because Niall grabs his hand in the waiting room and laces their fingers together. He goes off about some football game he watched the other night to keep Harry distracted, and Harry squeezes his hand in gratitude.

"What if she judges me?" Harry whispers to Niall. Zayn, sitting on his left, is typing something on his phone and smiling. He's probably texting Liam something sappy.

"She won't, Haz. This is her job, she's gonna help you."

Harry bites his lip, but he knows Niall's right. He's just really worried, okay.

He nods, and Niall gives him a reassuring smile.

*

His therapist turns out to be a really nice woman. Her name's Caroline, and she doesn't make him feel pressured to talk, lets him explain everything at his own pace. It must be annoying for her since he's talking really slowly, mumbling and pausing every two words.

It's just hard. He feels exposed, but he's willing to make that sacrifice if it means getting better.

Caroline listens to everything he says, taking some notes, and when he stops talking she looks at him thoughtfully before speaking.

"Harry, have you ever heard of intrusive thoughts?"

*

Knowing the name of what has been plaguing him for months feels like a breathing after being underwater for a really, really long time. It doesn't mean it gets easier, but it's something. There are ways to get better, a specific therapy made for this kind of problem.

It's something. It's a lot.

*

"Sure you don't wanna come with me and Louis tomorrow? It's gonna be fun."

They're spooning in Niall's bed, legs interwined. Harry loves being the little spoon, it makes him feel protected.

"I can't play football for shit, Ni. You know that."

He hears Niall huff a laugh and he grins.

"I have therapy tomorrow, anyway." He adds after a few moments. There's silence, and he feels Niall hold him tighter.

"I'm really proud of you, y'know. Like, a lot." Niall's voice is more of a whisper now. Harry feels something warm spread in his chest.

"I love you." He whispers back. He surprises himself with those words; he hadn't planned on saying it, it just slipped out, but it's true. He's in love with Niall, maybe he has been since the day they met. It's impossible not to love him, really. He's like the sun, he burns so bright and he makes everything around him glow.

He's the best person he's ever met.

"Love you too, Curly." Niall replies easily, without missing a beat. Harry wonders how he got so lucky.

*

Getting better comes in bits and pieces. It's a process, and a really hard one. After being miserable for so long, it's difficult to suddenly be okay again.

Sometimes he still feels like he's fucked up beyond help, and those days he can barely get up from the couch, he can barely eat. Sometimes he still thinks he doesn't actually have any real disorder, that he's just making it all up to justify his screwed up thoughts - even though that's not true.

But he tries, he really does. And eventually, something shifts.

Getting better is being able to fall asleep without a panic attack. It's waking up and being excited for the day he has in front of him.

It's going a few hours without any bad thoughts, it's smiling more and meaning it, it's knowing that even though he's gonna relapse, that anxious feeling in his chest that drains every bit of color from his life is not gonna last forever.

It's Niall's cheerful laugh and Zayn's radiant smile. It's knowing he's not alone in this.

It's small steps forward and hope blossoming in his chest.

Harry's not quite happy yet, he won't be for a while, but he's _finally_ getting there and that's what matters.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://hazza-niall.tumblr.com/) xx


End file.
